| Robert Graves (1895–1985). Fairies and Fusiliers. 1918. |
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| 9. Mr. Philosopher |
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| OLD Mr. Philosopher | |
| Comes for Ben and Claire, | |
| An ugly man, a tall man, | |
| With bright-red hair. | |
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| The books that he’s written | 5 |
| No one can read. | |
| “In fifty years they’ll understand: | |
| Now there’s no need. | |
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| “All that matters now | |
| Is getting the fun. | 10 |
| Come along, Ben and Claire; | |
| Plenty to be done.” | |
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| Then old Philosopher, | |
| Wisest man alive, | |
| Plays at Lions and Tigers | 15 |
| Down along the drive— | |
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| Gambolling fiercely | |
| Through bushes and grass, | |
| Making monstrous mouths, | |
| Braying like an ass, | 20 |
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| Twisting buttercups | |
| In his orange hair, | |
| Hopping like a kangaroo, | |
| Growling like a bear. | |
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| Right up to tea-time | 25 |
| They frolic there. | |
| “My legs are wingle,” | |
| Says Ben to Claire. | |
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